


The Lies We Tell Ourselves

by GlamAssKiddo



Category: Insidious (Movies)
Genre: Fake Relationship, Holidays Fic, M/M, these boys are dumb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-02-15 22:18:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13040598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlamAssKiddo/pseuds/GlamAssKiddo
Summary: Specs' family misunderstands his living arrangements and Tucker tags along for christmas, but not everything about this relationship is a lie.or, the fake dating xmas fic nobody asked for





	1. Meet the Parents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thelilnan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelilnan/gifts).



**December 8th**

“So you’ll be arriving on the 20th?”

“Yeah, I managed to get a couple extra days off from work this year,” Specs lied as he tried to rub away an imagined spot on the kitchen countertop, “though I probably won’t be able to stick around for New Year’s.” 

His mother let out an irritated grunt, but soon returned to her upbeat tone. “Well your sister can’t come until the 23rd so we’ll have plenty of time to catch up. I want to know  _ everything  _ about this new boss of yours.” Specs didn’t answer. “Steven?”

“Yes?”

“I was just thinking… maybe you could bring your boyfriend this year?”

_ “My what.”  _ The chill running down Specs’ spine was so strong he wondered, for a second, if there was a presence in his house. He could feel his lunch turning in his stomach. “Mom, I don’t have a— I’m not even—”

“Oh, Steven, please. You father and I have known ever since you were with Jacob Gray in high school. You can stop pretending.” Specs’ relived the entirety of his first heartbreak in the time it took for his heart to miss two beats. He took a deep breath and saved that particular panic attack for later. “Still, I—I don’t have a boyfriend! Who are you talking about?”

“Baby, you’ve been living with that boy for years now! You can’t seriously expect us to still believe he’s ‘a coworker searching for an apartment.’” Specs had to grip the edge of the countertop to keep himself from collapsing as he realised who was this imaginary boyfriend. His mother continued: “Oh, what was his name? Terrence? No, Tobias!”

“Tucker. You mean Tucker.”

* * *

 

“You let them believe we’re dating.” 

Specs had his eyes glued to the ground, but he could still hear Tucker trying to hold his laughter in. “I panicked! They couldn’t believe I’ve been housing a coworker for over three years.”

“But it’s the truth!” Tucker sniffled in pride, “well. We’re more than coworkers, after all, we run a business together…”

“Um.”

“ _ Um  _ what?”

“They don’t… know that…”

Tucker burst out laughing, so loud Specs thought he could feel the floor shaking. “You’ve never told them about Spectral Sightings?”

“I didn’t have the courage! Never even told them I quit that accounting job.”

Tucker took a step forward, closing the gap between them. “So. You want me to go all the way to your parents’ home in Washington State with you, pretend to be your boyfriend and also pretend that we both work in grey cubicles instead of hunting ghosts with an old lady.” 

“Yes? I mean, I guess I can tell them you just couldn’t come, but then they would keep asking again and again every year so… let’s just get this over with?”

Tucker was quiet for a second. Specs stared straight at a stain in his housemate’s t-shirt and tried not to scream.

“What’s in it for me?”

Specs looked Tucker in the eyes, determined. He might as well make another decision he knew he would regret sooner or later. “I’ll cook you dinner every night until february.”

Tucker smiled and held out one greasy hand. Specs decided sooner was a great time for regret.

“It’s a deal,  _ boyfriend _ .”

* * *

 

**December 20th**

“Turn right here,” Specs directed, trying to find their way through his old neighborhood, buried underneath layers of old memories and snowfall. They’d rented a car for the trip, as their van was covered with the Spectral Sightings logo, and it was so small Tucker’s head brushed against the ceiling. 

“Fancy houses. Knew your parents were well-off, but not by this much.” Tucker whistled in mockery.

“Please, shut up.” Between Tucker’s reckless driving and fear for the week ahead, Specs was holding on to the ceiling handle so tightly his knuckles were white. “Left here. We should be there right about… shit.” His parents were waiting for them on the porch, waving in their heavy coats. Specs was thankful he’d forced Tucker to brush his hair (the man didn’t even own a brush!) this morning. He collected all his courage as Tucker parked in front of the gate, swallowed a screech and stepped out into the snow.

“Steven, darling, how good to have you back home. And you must be Tucker, pleasure to meet you.” Specs’ mother gave him a suffocating hug and shook Tucker’s hand. “I’m Linda, and this is my husband James.” Specs’ father stood slightly behind his wife, hands in his pockets, quiet as ever. He offered both the visitors a polite smile and a quick head nod.

“Well come in, come in, it’s too cold out here!” Linda pushed James and Tucker towards the door, turning backwards to mouth at Specs behind their backs, “he’ so tall!” Specs rolled his eyes and followed them. 

Inside, everything seemed unaltered from his previous holiday visits: the same antiquated furniture in dark wood, kept pristine under Linda’s watchful eye (one he’d inherited, to Tucker’s regret), the very same christmas decorations, unchanged since he was a child, even if the plastic tree was getting droopier every year. He was never sure if he liked being back or not. He watched as Tucker took it all in. He seemed almost… impressed? Specs was relieved he wasn’t gonna start cracking jokes immediately.

They’d need to work together to get through dinner with his parents.

* * *

 

Over dinner, Specs’ entire existence began making sense to Tucker. 

His tendency to talk too much when he got nervous clearly came from his mother, although she seemed to be like this all the time: thankfully, Specs only needed to talk very briefly about his fake job before she started ranting about some neighbor’s love affairs. Tucker understood why Specs was so secretive to his parents, as Linda seemed to have perfected gossiping into an art form. Their answers to her questions about their relationship were short and, surprisingly, mostly true. They  _ had  _ met through work (though definitely not in accounting), and Tucker  _ had  _ moved in after being evicted, then just stuck around. It was disturbing how easily their friendship could be twisted into a committed, long-term relationship. Specs’ parents bought their story like a couple of suckers.

Not that he could really tell with James, anyways. The man barely got a word in during dinner, only responding to Linda when she tried to bring him into the conversation, but immediately shutting back up. He had the same anxious mannerisms as Specs: the same way of playing with his food, the same impatient tapping on the table, the biting of his lips, the incessant cleaning of his glasses. Watching father and son together, you’d think they were training for a synchronized fidgeting competition. 

Dinner was short and sweet. Specs’ family seemed to like Tucker, and it hadn’t been too difficult to make them believe the stories Specs had obsessively constructed. They only had to pretend they were a little closer than they already were, and, though the banter was familiar, Specs courageous hand placed at a chaste height on Tucker’s thigh did make his heart beat ever-so-slightly faster. The quicker this holiday was over the better. 

“Well, you boys must be tired from the trip. Steven, I trust you know where your room is,” Linda said as dinner ended, “don’t worry about the dishes, you’re our guests.” They all said their goodnights, Tucker still wearing the polite but charming smile he’d tried to keep throughout the evening as Specs led him upstairs. Specs stopped in front of the first door in the corridor, took a deep breath and gave Tucker one of his meanest looks as he opened the door. “I better not hear any of your dumb jokes.”

It was a big room, bigger than any Tucker had had in his childhood (“smaller than my sister’s,” Specs has once complained to him), clean, but mostly untouched. Aside from the fresh flowers in the bedside table and the new bedsheets, it was very much a teenager’s abandoned bedroom: most of the tacky wallpaper covered with horror movie posters, art prints and flyers for local rock bands, old photos pinned to a cork board, forgotten childhood toys hidden in corners, the half-empty bookshelf now mostly occupied by school books. And, of course: the single, narrow bed they were expected to share. Specs and Tucker stared at each other.

This holiday was only just beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

**December 23nd**

From the moment they met, Tucker could tell Specs’ sister did not like him.

As she stepped out of her car, she received from her parents the same greetings Specs and Tucker had, and turned towards Specs, giving him a dirty look. Tucker knew it as the face Specs made when he was pretending to be pissed off — just barely more exaggerated than his real pissed off face — so he wasn’t surprised when she soon dropped it and they rushed to each other’s arms.

“Hey, Doc.”

“How’s it going, Specs?”

She laughed and turned to face Tucker, giving Specs a clearly unimpressed look before flashing Tucker a hungry smile and offering him a handshake. “I’m Dorothy. Pleasure to meet you.” She had a proud posture, chin turned up, saying every word as though it were a challenge.

Tucker liked her immensely.

* * *

 

After lunch, Doc cornered Specs in the garden. 

“I  _ would _ say you can do better than him.”

“But?”

“But… I don’t actually think you two are together.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Specs. Big bro. Stupid Steven.” She looked him right in the eye, knowing hers was the only stare he could withstand without feeling anxious. “Mom and dad may only vaguely know you live in LA, but I know you tell me  _ everything _ . If you don’t hide your actual line of work from me,” Specs shushed her, looking around for their father’s attentive ears. She continued, “then why the hell would you hide a boyfriend for, what? Three years? All this time I’ve heard of this annoying bottomfeeder who sets you up in bad dates with his weird friends, and now you want me to believe you’ve been secretly dating this whole time? Don’t insult me, Specs.” She cleared the snow off a small bench and sat down, gesturing him to do the same. “Come. Tell me what’s actually going on, nerdlord.”

Specs threw himself on the bench with a dramatic sigh.

“So apparently, mom and dad have known I was gay ever since Jacob.”

“ _ What the actual fuck. _ ” Doc grabbed Specs’ arm so hard he was sure he’d have marks in the shape of her fingernails for days. When they were teenagers, she had swore to protect his secret as long as he deemed necessary. “Specs, I swear I never said anything, I would never—”

“I know, I know you didn’t. I guess they’re smarter than we thought.” He sighed again. “My point is, when mom invited ‘my boyfriend’ over for christmas, I was exactly as shocked as you are right now. They think it’s unrealistic for coworkers to live together for so long without being involved, despite the fact that it is pretty much true— but, as Tucker says, we’re a little bit more than coworkers,  _ but  _ I really could not explain that to them and I was already confused from that weird revelation and—”

“And so,” she interrupted, trying to calm him down before he started speaking loud enough to be heard inside, “you decided it would be better to make your sort-of-best-friend pretend he’s your boyfriend than admitting you’re crazy.”

“Yeah?”

“Man, you are the stupidest ghost hunter I know.”

“I was, until you met Tucker,” he mumbled. “And we’re not ghost hunters, we’re paranormal investigators.”

“What’s the difference?”

“We also deal with demons sometimes.”

She laughed, but then her face turned serious. “Specs, you know I don’t actually believe in most of the stuff you tell me about your work. I still think you’re a nutjob running around LA with a weird tech nerd and a crazy old lady. But, if any of it is real, or, at least, if you truly believe it is… Then you’re one of the bravest people I know. Wipe that self-conscious look off your face before I do. I fucking mean it. You’re out there helping families, maybe even saving lives, and fighting some freaky shit while at it.”

“Flattering talk, coming from a doctor.”

“I  _ will  _ slap you, idiot.”

She laid her head on his shoulder and they watched the snow fall in silence, same as they did countless times when they were teenagers, after he’d told her all about his boy troubles. He guessed very little had changed since then.

“Sooooooo,” she finally broke the silence.

“So  _ what _ ?” Whatever she wanted to know, it couldn’t be any good.

“Do secretly have real feelings for Tucker?”

“This conversation is over,” he blurted out, getting up and turning beet red.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

* * *

 

“This all looks like junk.”

“It is junk, and I made it, and I love it very much, so don’t talk shit.”

Specs groaned, already regretting his decision to let Doc come along for an investigation. He was nervous enough doing this without Elise after so much time under her guidance, and he did not need Tucker and Doc bitching at each other the whole night through. “Tucker makes all of his equipment himself,” he cut in, trying to dissipate tension. “Pulls apart old electronics from thrift shops and makes all kinds of weird tech.” He couldn’t quite hide the admiration in his voice, and he knew Doc had heard it too.

“Could buy all that shit, but it’s cheaper this way,” Tucker added as he came in from the adjoining room. “You still haven’t told me, Specs, but why did you make me bring all our stuff for this one house?”

“I…” he sighed, suddenly self conscious and desperate to get back home. “This house is essentially the reason I started Spectral Sightings.” He turned to face Tucker. “When I was about fourteen or fifteen, some assholes I used to be friends with dared me to come to this abandoned mansion. They told me some story about a murder, claimed it was haunted. I lasted about five minutes in here,” he laughed. “Accidentally knocked over a lamp — that one over there, it’s still on the floor where I left it — and spooked myself so much I just ran out screaming. But as I was leaving, I swear I heard a whisper, like someone calling my name.” A chill ran down his spine remembering it, even after all he had seen in the years since. “After that I started researching about paranormal phenomena and, well, here we are. I just want to be sure it was real, you know? To know that I didn’t build a career on top of a dumb teenager’s imagination.”

Tucker pretended to be unimpressed. “Cool. Wanna help me set up on the second floor?”

“I’ll go with you,” Doc cut in before Specs could answer. Tucker stared at her, then at Specs, then back to her. Something in her smile and his worried look told Tucker this was a very bad idea.

“Sure. Just don’t break anything.”

When they got upstairs, she sat down in a fragile old chair and watched as he mounted cameras and sensors on tripods. “Okay Tucker, I’m gonna be honest with you. I know you and Specs aren’t actually together.”

“Oh, so he told you?”

“Figured it out on my own. But dating or not, I know Specs really likes you. He may constantly complain to me on the phone about, well, everything that you do, really, but there must be  _ something _ about you that he truly enjoys, because there’s no way both of you would have managed to work or live together for so long if you didn’t have a really special bond.”

“Uh… thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t take it as a compliment, my brother has shit taste.” She kept silent for a few moments, trying to find the best way to express herself. “Listen… my brother has never had a lot of friends, and you’re probably the closest one he’s ever had. We live across the country and he’s too stubborn to rely on me or our parents anyways, so I’m glad he’s got someone like you watching out for him. That being said,” she stood up, meeting Tucker right in the eye. “I  _ am  _ a doctor, so if I ever find out that you did anything to hurt him or even let him get hurt, I will find you and use all of my medical knowledge to ensure your death is slow and unspeakably painful. Understood?” Tucker nodded yes, more scared than he’d been in a lot of haunted houses. 

“Great,” she said, suddenly smiling and upbeat, “let’s get to ghost-hunting!”

‘Ghost-hunting’ proved to be disappointingly free of ghosts. As the night went on, Specs grew more anxious as Doc and Tucker grew more impatient, until he was pacing the living room, lifting a cloud of dust which was not going to do any good for his allergies. At midnight, he finally gave up, throwing himself onto a half-rotten sofa. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, covering his face with his hands. “This is stupid. Coming to this house was stupid. Dragging you all the way here to cover up my lies was stupid. Spectral Sightings is stupid, this whole thing is stupid and I’m fucking stupid.”

Doc wanted to run to him, to grab him by the shirt and tell him to stop the self-pitying, but was stopped by Tucker’s large hand on her shoulder. She looked up and could see tears of anger threatening to roll down his face.

“Stupid? Specs, was it stupid when we helped the Brenners? When we helped the Lamberts? Was it stupid when we became Elise’s friends — fuck that, we were her family — and made her happier in the last years of her life? Was it stupid when you gave me a place to live? If Elise taught us anything, it’s that we don’t do this out of sheer curiosity, or for fame and fortune, or just because of a teenager’s obsession. We help people.  _ You  _ help people. If it weren’t for you, I would probably still be living in my car. How does that make you stupid?”

Specs didn’t answer, only looked at Tucker through his tears and jumped up from the couch to hug him. Tucker seemed to be caught off-guard but soon hugged him back. They stood like that for a long time, Specs still quietly sobbing into Tucker’s chest until Tucker noticed Doc standing awkwardly besides them, and gestured her to join in. She obeyed, cautiously hugging Specs from behind.

Later, as they left, Specs still clung to Tucker’s arm.

* * *

 

**December 25th**

“Hey Tucker, do you mind stepping outside for a second? I need some help moving some stuff around in the garden.”

Specs and Tucker shared a worried look as James stood in the doorway, waiting for an answer: he was a terrible liar, just like his son. It was clear he only wanted an excuse to speak privately with Tucker. Specs raised his eyebrows and motioned with his head, signaling to Tucker that it’d be better to just go along with it. 

“Yeah, of course.” He followed James outside, leaving Specs to wait nervously in the living room. James had set two beer bottles on the garden bench, and took one, handing Tucker the other. They sat down, popped off the bottle caps on the edge of the bench and didn’t say a word.

It was late afternoon, and the setting sun reflecting on the snow stung Tucker’s eyes. He wanted to ask James what they’d come here to talk about, but, after living with Specs for a few years, he’d learned it was probably best to let James broach the subject when he wanted to. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, James breathed in deep, as if to prepare himself, and turned to Tucker, “so, if you don’t mind me asking, what… what do you guys  _ really  _ work with?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, I— Steven  _ hated _ that job. I could tell he was absolutely miserable every time he talked about it. And then one day… well. He’s been a lot happier these last couple of years, and, as well-constructed as his work stories may be, I can tell when my son is lying.” He chuckled and took another swig of his beer. “So what is it? I mean, assuming you even work together at all, that’s probably—”

“No, that part is true,” Tucker cut him off. He chugged down almost half of his beer trying to find the least insane way to describe their jobs.  _ Sorry, Specs.  _ “We’re… Paranormal investigators.”

“Para— like fucking ghost hunters?”

“More or less.” Usually ghosts, sometimes literal demons from another dimension, but he didn’t need Specs’ dad to be even more worried than he probably already was. “We mostly answer calls from people who think there’s something wrong with their house and see if we can find anything spooky. Pretty uneventful, really, nothing more than leaky pipes and the occasional poltergeist.”

“Wow.” James blinked hard a few times, staring at Tucker as though he were a ghost himself. “Wow. Ok. I— I was prepared for a lot of stuff. Starving artist, waiter, hell, even sex work, but I was not prepared for ghost hunter. Not at all.”

“Listen I know it’s weird, but—”

“No, no, no, It’s not weird at all, it’s just.” he laughed. “Ok, it is pretty weird, but does it pay the bills?”

“We get by.”  _ With some help from Elise’s will _ , Tucker thought.

“Well, if it pays the bills and it makes him happy, then I can’t judge too much.” He smiled and clinked his bottle against Tucker’s. “And you make him happy too, you know? I can see it in the way he looks at you, and in the way you look at him. You two really love each other, huh?”

“Yeah. We sure do.”

* * *

 

Doc and Tucker struggled to carry Specs inside the house. Well, Tucker carried Specs, slung over his shoulder, while Doc made sure Tucker himself didn’t lose his balance on their way to Specs’ old bedroom. She hadn’t been surprised by how well Tucker could handle his drinks, but as the night went on he’d gotten pretty incoherent, and as for Specs, well. He was a lightweight just like their parents— and herself, she could begrudgingly admit. She’d told him to pace himself, as she was doing, but he insisted in keeping up with Tucker. He’d managed not to pass out or throw up (a major improvement from his teen years), but he couldn’t even walk without falling face first into his parent’s front yard.

Doc left both of them at Specs’ room, where he promptly threw himself on the bed. Tucker still remembered to at least take off his shoes before plopping face down directly on top of Specs.

“Off. Heavy,” the smaller man protested, and while Tucker could not understand the slurred and muffled words, he still got the message: wrapping his arms around Specs, he spun both of them around, so that Specs was lying face down on top of him. Tucker was planning on going to sleep in this very position when he felt Specs drag himself forward, so that their faces were level. Specs looked very serious, staring Tucker intently in the eye, and Tucker could feel Specs’ heartbeat getting faster against his own chest, and tried to ask Specs what was making him so nervous.

Before he could do that, Specs leaned down and kissed him.

Tucker froze for a second, eyes open, unsure how to react. Specs seemed to be lost in his own world, gently holding Tucker’s head even as he did not respond. Eventually, Tucker’s shock started to melt and he began kissing back, slowly at first, but growing more passionate and desperate as he gave in and embraced Specs. They broke away for breath, and, as Tucker caressed Specs’ cheek, the smaller man leaned back and sat up on top of Tucker, eyes wide, seemingly realising what they were doing for the first time. A blush of embarrassment spread across his face.

“I’m sorry I— I shouldn’t have— we can’t—” he shut up, trying to better grasp his thoughts. “I’m gonna sleep on the floor tonight okay goodnight bye!” he blurted out, jumping off of Tucker’s belly and throwing himself on the floor against the wall, as far away from the bed as he could. Tucker was left speechless on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to understand what had just happened.

The next afternoon, they said their goodbyes and, despite protests from Specs’ family, left to LA, taking with them their bags, matching hangovers and a silent agreement never to speak of the previous night.


End file.
